It’s a welcome distraction when my mother texts to tell me the couple bought a Christmas tree farm together at the movie’s end. I’m smiling as I reply, and Ben’s gaze darts to the phone with a sneer. I swear to God if he criticizes me for two seconds of personal time this late in the day, I will literally explode. I cross the room to grab another box of files and catch his gaze on the seam of my stockings, traveling up to the hem of my skirt. His jaw shifts, and he throws down his pen in disgust, looking away.
someone’s jealous
